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Poetry

Words the mathematician spoke at the end of the world
Did you see, did you see??
the dying moths, the symmetry?

The fearful broken glass array,
scattered along the cracked road,
like a drunken musician, it composed
a random matrix of doubtful glances,
a tensor of silly stagnant dances,
an algebra of smashed dismay.

The fire came down,
the wind went around,
the fire was hot,
the wind was cold,
And somewhere, somehow,
I lost my hat!

Listening to Chopin at 2am
If I could explain how I felt right now,
our souls would have merged into one,
and I would not be sitting here,
looking out the window.

Halogen street lamps are a cold blue,
but colder still was my heart today.

These lights transfix me:
pink, orange, red, and green,
softly they glow in the distance,
as headlights drift between.

do they twinkle, or is that my imagination?
I no longer know or care,
With no desire to keep track of reality,
I fall into a blank stare.

Notes fly like atoms drifting in empty space, sometimes
colliding into chords, other times spinning around each other
in a complicated dance of mathematical precision.

Transfixed, I am spinning and moving with them
now and then catching upon a melody line
at other times getting struck by large chords
which suddenly appear out of nowhere.

Now time itself has
quit behaving
correctly
perhaps a drunken frat boy
is playing
with
Newton's metronome.

It is strange how the notes trickle
but do not splash
I am not sure whether
they are moving, or I.

With ease I violate the conservation of energy;
I always thought it was a rather silly idea anyways.

I am tired of searching for something
and then pretending to find it, when really,
it never existed to begin with.

I should mention the colors...
somewhere a mad physicist is playing with his lasers,
and the pure tones look very pretty.
But now the modes are going out of phase and some
higher order terms have come back from the dead.
It's more chromatic than a scherzo by Schoenberg
played by John Cage on a piano that has been smashed
with beer bottles and dragged through the slums of Warsaw.

In endless error I am hurled...
my anchor line broken, my compass cracked,
and probably demagnetized as well,
adrift without a paddle,
I feel I will be blown haphazardly across the universe,
forever.

Poor PoemGentle reader:
the rhymes here are pretty lame
the language quite inane.
I have tried to make it rhyme
in measure and proper time
but I have to admit,
stuff doesn't always fit.
I don't have much good to say
and I bid you go your way,
lest you waste your time
looking for verse sublime.

This is my poor poem,
the existential rant
of a driveling sophocant
explaining his days and ways.

Late hours, memories lay in dusty
corridors.
I drift slowly through tedious neurotic algebras,
and the ravages of deep thought make me weary.
I adopt a pastoral mood.

Dancing among butterflies and flowers divine,
under the silver apple of the moon.
A Chopin nocturne drifts amongst the night air.

My mind lingers and then malingers
I feel as though it floats.
Time flows without end.
I fly amongst the cleansing winds.
But just as time marches
so the beat of my heart
brings me back to earth.

darknessthe void is dark.
my dreams are
stretched before me
like an event horizon.
do I dare?
do I dare?
do I dare go down that path?

The path I've been down before,
and back again, only to turn around?
I know its meanderings, its dead ends,
they only lead to madness!
Perhaps once more, I will go,
to account and recount my loss.
I will try to build something
out of the nothingness that remains.
A shelter perhaps.
But from what?
A shelter from myself.
A shelter from the pain.
Do you remember the fresh spring rains?
and the bright summer sun?
Do you remember the autumn leaves?
and the somber snows of winter?
I know these things through you.
Spring was a romance,
summer a comedy,
fall was a satire,
and winter a tragedy.
I know these things through you.

Tangerine dream the smell of the eternal feminine lingersin the
cold dry air.

the air vibrates
as static sweeps through it.

hisssyyyhissyyyhisssssssssssss

In the air dust
floats
with chaotic motions.

beyond the known,
beyond the knowable,
beyond the self.

glimmer
pop!
glow

LED!
laser!
cathode ray!

Full of obsession,
in a circle of confusion:
orange fuzzballs,
scarlet circles,
a somber green dot,
bursts of laser light.